


Melt the Ice (My Funny Valentine)

by burninginfandomhell



Category: The Band's Visit - Yazbek/Moses
Genre: M/M, fuck it, i didn't write it which probably explains why asdjalsfhk, i don't give a shit, this fic is a fluffy mess but you know what?, this is literally gonna be the second fic in this ao3 tag, you want something better then read the first one
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-13
Updated: 2018-09-13
Packaged: 2019-06-30 11:53:43
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,273
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15751146
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/burninginfandomhell/pseuds/burninginfandomhell
Summary: “You are...a mystery,” Haled said with a sigh, and Papi couldhearthat gorgeous smile in his voice, and his body was overwhelmed with a sense of longing that he had never felt before; the kind that Chet Baker sang about.two disaster bisone payphoneone roller rinkone survivor(that's a joke)





	Melt the Ice (My Funny Valentine)

**Author's Note:**

> this ship needs more content and sometimes you just gotta do things your damn self. this also has some Wholesome Hebrew Moments so whip out the google translate fellas. i could also never tell if papi and zelger being roommates was canon or not, so i just said fuck it they're roommates (oh my god, they were roommates).
> 
> thank you sm to @chidi-anagonye on tumblr (the queen of hapi) for helping me. read her fic on tumblr, and also @tevinterimperium's fic on here. i don't know them, but that's a damn good fic. gotta support the people carrying this ship on their shoulders, they're doing god's work.
> 
> strap in, cuz this is cheesier than a quesadilla

Haled had sworn to call as soon as he got the chance. He must have just...not gotten the chance yet. He had been gone for what, two days now? It felt longer.

Papi fidgeted with the telephone’s swirling black cord, trying to appear casual, despite the painful morning sun. He did not want to be dubbed as the next “Telephone Guy”; he was already enough of a loser.

_Maybe Haled lost the number?_

But Papi didn’t even want to entertain that thought. If that was the case, the duo would likely never meet again. Papi did not have any contact of Haled’s, so he could not even try to slip a quarter into the pay phone and give it a shot for himself.

As if he would ever have the courage to actually do that.

Papi was going to be late for work. Though he was always on time and ready, that particular day he felt out of his body. Like waiting for this potential call was more important than anything he had ever done up to that point.

So Papi waited. The sun climbed higher and higher over the blank horizon, relishing in the poor man’s misery, but something within him kept him rooted to the spot in spite of all of the sideways glances from passers by, the burns already appearing on his arms, his lack of hydration, and all of the other reasons why he should _not be doing this_. It was as if some deeper sense of knowing in his soul was telling him to stay.

 

Papi nodded off while leaning against the telephone in the overwhelming, drowsy heat. His custom of falling into the restless clutches of sleep at three in the morning wasn't helping either, but it was no big deal; he was always running on empty.

He woke to the sound of a familiar loud ringing. At first he did not know what time it was, or even _where_ he was, but after blinking a few times he remembered what he had set out for, and regained his bearings. Shakily, he picked up the phone.

A comforting voice, like honey in hot tea and a crackling fire, politely asked, “Is this Papi?”

Papi’s heart exploded. Waves roared in his head, the call of the sea. He cleared his throat. “Y-yes. It is me.” Papi’s shoulders tensed as he was thrown into a whirlpool; it was a nervous reflex.

“Great! It is good to hear your voice, friend. This is Haled, if you did not know.”

Papi laughed, shuffling his feet. “No...I knew.” Seagulls.

“So, how are things with Julia, eh? Going well, I assume?”

Papi rubbed the back of his neck. “We are not, ah...seeing each other anymore.” Shores subsiding. He could breath again, his head was above the water.

“I’m sorry to hear that, Papi.” He sounded sincere. Like he would’ve given Papi a hug right then if he could have.

“No, it is okay, really. I promise. I...I’m the one that suggested we...see other people.”

“What would you do that for?!” Haled scolded through the receiver. “You are only young once, friend!”

Papi could picture Haled sitting by the phone, his eyebrows knit together, the lines of his face drawn in tightly, but still beautiful.

_Beautiful._

“I don’t know why!” Papi squealed.

But he did know why. He knew exactly why. It was for the same reason that he was being sucked in by the undertow, coaxed back into the salty abyss.

“You are...a mystery,” Haled said with a sigh, and Papi could _hear_ that gorgeous smile in his voice, and his body was overwhelmed with a sense of longing that he had never felt before; the kind that Chet Baker sang about (or so he assumed, based on all of those lovely things Haled had said about the musician).

Their conversation addled on dreamily until Haled had to leave, but not before swearing to call the following evening (Papi had made it very clear, sweaty and near the point of unconsciousness, that next time it must be in the _evening_ ). Before he hung up, Haled asked one last thing. “Hey, is your hair still...um...funny? No, that is not the word…”

“Ugly?”

“No!”

“Messy?”

“Messy, yes! Is it still messy?”

Papi reached up and felt his curls, and sure enough, they were more knot-ridden and wild than ever.

“Uh...yes? Why do you ask?”

“I don’t know, I just...like it that way. It is...cute.”

A scolding yell in Arabic, perhaps from Tewfiq, resounded from the background. At least Papi, in his final moments on this unforgiving planet, had the comfort of knowing that Haled had not been kicked out of the orchestra.

“Okay, I really must go now! Goodbye, Papi!”

Papi somehow got enough air into his lungs to wheeze out “goodbye” before his body shut down. He put the phone on the cradle, slid to the ground, and curled up on his side. This was going to take a few solid hours in the sand to comprehend.

 

This valuable time was cut short about twenty minutes in when Dina, taking a walk during her lunch break from the job that Papi was supposed to be present for, saw her friend lying on the ground next to the pay phone.

“Papi...what are you doing?”

“I have a crush, Dina,” he replied, not moving an inch.

She smirked, raising an eyebrow. Her hair curtained around her face as she looked down at him. “Ah, this must be why you did not come in today. Is it that sad roller skating girl?”

“No. Somebody else.”

Dina tamed her dark waves into a ponytail, and then crossed her arms. “Well, there aren’t a lot of other single girls around here...unless you like me, or a taken woman.”

Papi smiled a bit at that. “No, Dina, you are like אָחוֹת. And it is nobody from here.”

“This girl from out of town?”

Papi normally would’ve nodded along passively until the interrogator moved on, but he found that he simply could not lie to Dina; she was too strong, too solid _;_  his safety, his comfort, his island.

“Dina, can you come down here?”

“No.”

Papi sighed, but begrudgingly got to his feet, and leaned in close to Dina’s ear. “You must promise me that you will not breathe to another soul what I am about to tell you.”

“I do not care enough to do that.”

“Alright.” Papi inhaled and exhaled deeply, finding his nerve. “Before the band left I gave Haled the number for the pay phone, and we talked for...I do not even know how long, and I think I’ve grown to have...feelings for him.”

Dina leaned back and raised an eyebrow. “אתה הומו? I always had a feeling-”

“No! I mean...I don’t know. I like the girls, but I also like him, okay?”

Dina clapped a firm hand to his shoulder. “It is okay, I will keep your secret. I hope that things go well with you two.”

Papi hugged her. “Thank you, Dina. אני אוהב אותך."

Dina kissed his forehead. “Always, אח קטן.”

* * *

 Papi’s feelings for Haled had blossomed from a budding crush into a bouquet of borderline obsession. When he wasn’t on the phone, smiling and laughing like a child, or blasting his new Chet Baker CDs in the café (or at home, much to the protest of his roommate Zelger), he was thinking about their calls, running over every word. Their arrangement had been going on for a week and a half, but it appeared to be eons; time disappeared and stretched out into the sand when Haled and Papi spoke to each other.

Oh, and Papi could see it so damn clear in his mind’s eye: Haled, curled up on a couch, grinning and blushing and laughing as he wound the telephone cord absently in his nimble fingers. Perhaps Tewfiq would walk by, wondering who that trumpet player could be talking to in such a lively manner.

Or Haled, stretched out on the bed of a hotel in a beautiful city where hundreds, maybe thousands, waited to see him play his music, but all of that fell away when he talked to a nervous Israeli boy with cute messy hair.

All wishful thinking, Papi knew, but there was nothing to disprove these thoughts, so the fantasies lived on.

These constant periods of imagination had begun to seep into other aspects of Papi’s life, including his work ethic. One lazy afternoon in the café as Dina was wiping down the table that Papi had just “cleaned”, where Itzik sat, Itzik murmured to her, “That boy, he gets worse at his job every day,” shaking his head in disappointment.  
Dina smiled. “No, do not be upset with him. He is in love.”  
  
  
“I do not believe you.”

“It is true!” Haled said through his laughter. “Right onto the stage! We were cleaning up her vomit for a while after the audience left.”

Papi sighed, smitten. “You live a wild life.”

In that instant, Papi was sure that this was the happiest he could ever be, heart swaying with the waves in a cacophony of bliss. There was a beautiful quiet moment until he blurted, “So, are you married now?”

Silence.

God, why had he asked? If he never knew the answer, it could stay like this. Breathy phone calls and laughter and yelling and a relentless sun.

“I-I-I’m so sorry, Haled, that was not-"

“No...it is ok. We are not married...at least not yet. But I met her. She seems...fine? I don’t know.”

Papi felt a lump in his throat rising, his own tears strangling him.

There was a painful pause.

“I should...I should go, Papi.”

Papi's heart shattered like a glass bottle hitting the pavement.

“Call me tomorrow?”

“I...I don’t-"

“Or come to Bet Hatikvah!” Papi yelped. “You can...spend the night. With me.”

“I’d love to, but I cannot just leave-"

“Only one night! I will send you home as soon as the sun rises.” Papi chewed on his lip, bouncing on his heels apprehensively. This had to be the most ridiculous impulse Papi had ever followed; or, rather, one of the _only_ impulses he had ever followed. He wasn’t sure if he had gone deaf completely, or if Haled had just taken a moment to consider how he’d answer. Papi was sure his sobs would break loose if he didn’t hear something, anything, _anything at all-_

“I’ll be in Bet Hatikva by tomorrow evening,” Haled finally said, and hung up. 

* * *

 

After Papi’s long day of worrying, pacing, cleaning, and taking stress naps, the bus pulled out of the desolate station after the only (gorgeous) passenger made his exit. The sky was a sapphire bled with the psychedelic colors of evening, the large red star in the sky losing its grip on the horizon.

Upon seeing Haled in the flesh wearing jeans and a tee-shirt, and not just as a vaguely-remembered body to match a voice, Papi’s deep-seeded fears kicked in and the ocean made a home in his eardrums. “Okay come on!” he said with a voice-crack. Papi grabbed Haled by the sleeve and began fervently trudging to where he intended for them to spend their time. He had concocted a feverish plan somewhere in his anxious psyche; there was no time to waste.

Haled laughed and held Papi back. “Wait! Won’t you at least say hello to me?” Haled’s eyes were swimming with coquettish playfulness, utterly hypnotic in their nature.

Nervous and blushing, Papi stepped closer to Haled. “Hello.”

Haled said nothing for a moment, slowing the seconds and taking in the adorable young man before him.

Papi thought he might faint. “Are _you_ going to say hello?”

Haled smiled. “Hello.”

Papi swallowed a large gulp of sea-water. “Alright, we go now!” Again, he tried to drag Haled away to fulfill his scheme.

“Wait, my things! Where do I put them?” Haled gestured to the small suitcase he carried.

Papi made a sound of annoyance. “Okay. We put these in my apartment and _then_ we go.”

 

When they arrived after their brisk walk, Papi instructed Haled to wait outside, he would put his suitcase away for him.

Papi threw open the door to find Zelger on the couch watching television with Anna in his arms. “Shalom, Papi,” they murmured sleepily.

Papi skittered over to them, his face red. In Hebrew, he hurriedly demanded, “Can you stay at Anna’s tonight? Please? I told you about this earlier, I have a guest.”

Zelger and Anna sat up curiously. “Oh really?” Anna asked.

“Yes, Papi finally has a girl!” Zelger said with a smirk.

“Shut up! It is...it is not like that. Just, please?”

“Alri-"

Haled entered the room. In English he stammered, “If...if it is a problem, I do not have to stay.”

Anna and Zelger leapt up in synch, their jaws on the floor.

Haled stood there, stepping from foot to foot, clueless as to what the trio was screaming about in their language. Anna did a lot of pointing, Zelger a lot of laughing and shoving, and Papi a lot of a blushing, his face scrunching angrily as he yelled. Eventually they seemed to settle, and it ended with Anna and Zelger leaving the apartment arm and arm, snickering and giggling and throwing amused glances in Haled’s direction as they left.

Once they were gone, Papi slapped on a forced smile and screeched, “Let’s just leave your things in here for now,” and dragged him away from the war zone of catastrophic embarrassment.

 

 

“Are we going where I think we are going?”

Papi did not answer, only continued marching forward.

When they pushed open the door, the companions were greeted by obnoxiously loud techno music, the bass pumping enough to start an earthquake. Colorful lights swirled and shimmered in a dizzying flurry. Couples moved about holding hands. There were a few benches around the floor, and the walls were covered with loopy patterns painted in vibrant neon colors. A few adolescents tried desperately to maneuver the claw machine, while others played air hockey.

The roller rink.

“Shalom,” an employee mumbled; his voice was monotone and depressing, and the large bowling shirt he wore was trying to swallow him whole.

Papi rented them each a pair of skates, and they sat on a bench to put them on. “Do you know how to roller skate?” Papi asked as Haled fumbled with tying the laces.

“No, not really,” he said.

Papi’s heart skipped a beat. “It is okay. I will help you.”

When Haled stood up, he once again towered over Papi to an almost comedic degree.

“Yes, thank you. I do not know how to move right now without dying.” His face was bright and happy and alive and fearless.

“Okay, well just step forward, but also slide a bit-”

Haled made one move and slipped back onto the bench, laughing as he did so.

Papi smiled, but was also a bit concerned for Haled’s life. “It is okay, just...just try again,” he said with little conviction.

Haled stood up and made a feeble attempt, but wobbled dangerously until he supported himself against the wall. “I think...I think I need to hold onto you.”

Papi blushed violently, but extended his hand. “Alright, you...you hold my hand.”

Haled smiled successfully to himself, like that was what he had been hoping for all along.

 

After some fumbling and struggling and flirting and practicing, Haled turned out to be a decent roller skater. He had reached the point where he did not have to hold Papi in a death grip with one hand and touch the wall with the other. Now, he held Papi’s hand not out of necessity, but because he wanted to. It felt right, natural. There was a sort of fluidity between them, and things came quite easily after they got over their bashful stammering (well, _Papi's_ bashful stammering) and broken English.

“Do you think they would play Chet Baker if I asked?” Haled wondered aloud.

Papi laughed. “I do not think so...I suppose you could still ask, though.”

Haled grinned hopefully as he clumsily clunked over to the man bopping his head and shuffling through CDs. Papi leaned against the wall and couldn't contain his laughter at Haled’s display of blind optimism.

When Haled skated back over to him, his head hung low, Papi chuckled a bit. “No Chet Baker?”

Haled pouted and shook his head.

Papi extended his hand. “Cheer up. _I_ like Chet Baker.”

Haled smiled at that and intertwined their fingers again, and after a beat said, “Yes...you have beautiful eyes.”

The unlikely pair skated around the loop until their legs hurt. They didn’t talk much, they didn’t have to; there was just the occasional humming of “My Funny Valentine.”

As they sat, removing their skates after their dorky romantic evening of sorts, there was little space between them, but neither of them seemed to mind. “This has been very fun Papi, thank you,” Haled said, placing a hand on Papi’s knee.

Papi’s heart stopped for a moment, and his entire body filled with sand and salt water and fish and sun and he became deaf to the world outside of his own head.

But he looked into Haled’s eyes, and he breathed, and then he was okay again. “Before we leave, I want to do something,” he said. This was where his master plan (it was really only a two step plan) came into effect.

“Okay.”

Papi, shaky but determined, dragged Haled over to a desolate bench in a corner, away from the rest of the civilians and out of view.

“Stand in front of this and close your eyes,” Papi instructed.

Haled smiled and did as he was told, completely uninquisitive.

“Alright, just stay like that, but do not open.”

Papi climbed on top of the bench, teetering a bit, fearing for a moment that he would slip and break his arm and drown in the sea in his mind. But that did not happen. He stood up straight and dug up the minuscule shred of courage that lived within him, and, shaking with apprehension and anxiety, Papi threw his weight forward, messily looped his arms around Haled’s neck, and kissed him. Haled wasn’t his ocean, or his island; he was the stars, shedding dim light onto the sinking shadows of Papi’s life.

Haled blinked. “Papi, I-"

Papi groaned, burying his face in his hands, wishing to drown in the sleeves of his button down. “I’m so sorry, I should’ve never assumed that-“

“No, no!” Haled put his hand gently on Papi’s shoulder. “I was just going to say that I did not know you would...kiss so good.”

“What?!”

Papi’s jaw dropped open, not unlike Zelger and Anna earlier, and Haled had to laugh. “Why are you so surprised that I have feelings for you? How could I not with that...messy hair.”

Papi’s face was more vibrant than the desert sunset. He opened his mouth and then closed it again, searching for the correct phrasing. Haled waited patiently, smiling, until Papi seemed to find the words. He deeply inhaled to steel himself. He couldn’t look Haled directly in the eyes as he made his statement, but the point still got across. “Haled, will you, uh...you know, be a melty ice cube with me, or whatever it is that you say?”

Haled chuckled, and caught Papi off guard by quickly kissing him, darkening the shades of red that already stained Papi’s cheeks. “I cannot make promises to you unless I know for a fact that I can keep them,” Haled said solemnly.

Papi’s face fell. “Oh-”

“Buuut,” Haled cut in, gently tracing his fingertips along Papi’s jaw until their eyes met, “I can tell you that I would love to be a melty ice cube with you.”

Papi grinned, bashful and blushing, staring at the floor. “Okay...um, wow, I-”

But Papi’s awkward stuttering was cut off by his own startled scream as Haled lifted him bridal style and carried him out of the building, earning a few looks from the small crowd that populated the roller rink.

“Do you want to go back to my apartment?” Papi asked, completely flustered.

Haled nodded.

_Dina is never going to believe this_ , he thought.

 

Later in that gorgeous night as Papi lay in bed, looking at Haled beside him, his heart swelled and then broke. The impermanence of this relationship, who was he kidding, this _fling_ , that he had been so actively ignoring hit him like the bus that would take Haled away in the morning.

Haled brought out joy within his soul that nobody else ever had. He almost wanted to laugh; he could’ve never imagined that those sweaty phone calls would lead to this.

He moved onto his side and kissed the crook of Haled’s neck and didn’t let himself cry, not even when Haled hummed sleepily and rolled over to wrap Papi in his arms; he just fell restlessly asleep in the comforting warmth of the man beside him.

The milky moon seemed to weep for him, offering her sympathies.

* * *

 Papi placed a quick, desperate, yearnful kiss to Haled’s lips, hanging onto the taller man’s body as if for dear life. “Do you really have to go? You can stay here with me. And Dina, and Itzik, and Zelger, and Anna, and even Julia! I’m sure they will all grow to love you very much.”

Haled held Papi’s face and kissed him gently, sweetly. There seemed to be tears in his eyes, but he would not let them fall. “I want to be with you very much, but I...I have to go home. I have a family, and I have the band. I wish I could stay but...I cannot. I’m so sorry.” Haled’s voice broke.

Papi did not say a word, just clutched Haled’s waist tightly, trying to memorize the exact tones and lilts of his heartbeat. “I’ll never forget you, Haled,” he choked.

“And I will not forget you. But listen to me Papi: no matter what, you are my best friend. Always.”

Papi nodded. The bus appeared over the lonesome horizon, creeping closer and closer, ticking down the seconds that they had together.

_My funny valentine_

_Sweet comic valentine_

_You make me smile with my heart_

Papi wanted to go back. Please, god, why couldn’t he _fucking_ go back? How was it only last night that he was kissing Haled under the colorful lights of the roller rink, holding his hand, gazing into his eyes like they were the world. How could everything change so quickly?

_Your looks are laughable_

_Unphotographable_

_Yet you’re my favorite work of art_

Papi stretched up and pressed his lips to Haled’s knowing it was likely the last time. There was a novel of words lodged in his throat, but he held his tongue. Spilling his heart would only make things even harder, he knew.

_Is your figure less than Greek_

_Is your mouth a little weak_

_When you open it to speak_

_Are you smart_

Haled opened his mouth a few times, but there were no words to be found. He wrapped Papi in a final embrace and offered a small smile, but Papi couldn’t bring himself to pretend like that.

_But don’t change a hair for me_

_Not if you care for me_

Haled boarded the empty bus with the few belongings he had brought, and gave Papi one last longing look.

_Stay, little valentine, stay_

Papi stared like a bypasser of a car accident, trapped in morbid fascination as Haled was swept away farther and farther. Ironic how their romance had been brought to life and slain in the same sand.

_Each day is Valentine’s Day_

 

Papi began to weep for the first time in what seemed an eternity. He had never experienced such an empty, tremendous loss, and it had only been seconds. But he had also never _felt_ that much in as long as he could remember. His emotions were always dull, vague, misplaced; never this precise and cruel. He couldn’t even bring himself to go home. The memories of the two of them there were still too fresh and raw.

He wished Dina would wrap him in her comforting arms and assure him that this would all pass; he’d find somebody else to fawn over and all would be okay. He ultimately ruled that out, though; the thought of her seeing him like this was terrible.

He eventually opted to move into the shade of an apartment to gain protection from the cruel sun that had been his unwelcome companion through it all. He had the day off, so he figured he’d sit there until the abysmal desert night became too frigid and dark to bear.

He closed his eyes and forced himself into a restless nap so he wouldn’t have to think about anything for a while.

 

He was awoken by the ring of the payphone. Ah, yes, that fucking pay phone. Papi wanted to tear the thing from its foundation and set it ablaze and watch it burn, but he found a rather primal curiosity sweeping over him. Perhaps Dina had won the lottery, or Itzik and Iris had some family coming in for a visit.

Gingerly, Papi tread over to the phone and removed it from its cradle.

“Hello?”

There was a tantalizing reprieve until a honey-in-hot-tea-crackling-fire voice gave its reply:

“When can I see you again?”

**Author's Note:**

> thanks for reading this. if you enjoyed it, i'm glad that i could make you happy. papi calls dina his sister, not his nurse. like, comment, subscribe, and follow my minecraft to be enrolled in a giveaway.
> 
> https://youtu.be/dQw4w9WgXcQ


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